


There aint' no Cure

by IrwinLives



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Coming Out, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gay Panic, Jason Todd is Red Hood, M/M, Multi, Panic Attacks, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn, We're all here for a good time, bat, mostly angst, some flirting, some violence, starts out mild and gets spicy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-02-04 09:31:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18601783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrwinLives/pseuds/IrwinLives
Summary: It came after him at nights, chased him, this awful dark feeling and Jason’s face smirking and sharp, Jason’s hands moving over him. Like they had to that boy that girl. It was beautiful and exquisite and left Dick waking up sweaty and shaking. he didn't know what he was gonna do.The one in which Jason, and Dick need to work together and nothing good can come of it.





	1. Chapter 1

The rain was beating down in Bludhaven, cold and windy. Inside a warehouse Dick watched a group of kids huddled together, shivering in their ragged clothing. Perched up in the rafters, he had a good vantage point of the building. He counted twenty guards, five with guns, and forty children, cold scared and wet pushed into the corner. They were kids from the outskirts of Bludhaven, poorer neighborhoods, that'd fallen through the cracks and ended up here, hours from being packaged in a crate and shipped overseas . 

Dick had been searching for these kids for the last several weeks, listening to the pleas of their worried parents as he tracked down the smuggling ring responsible. He was kept up at night by the frantic look those parents had in their eyes.  
Now all he needed to do was sit tight. He'd contacted the BPD with his location, and within twenty minutes they should have found the remote warehouse. It was all in the nick of time, he'd finally located them tonight on the day the kids were going to be shipped off.  


Later he would criticize himself for getting too cocky and ignoring the signs in front of him. How the thugs began getting tense, whispering among themselves about hoods, special treatment for those that hurt kids, and spending to much time on the radio for what an outgoing shipment would need.  
He didn’t realize what was happening until there was a pounding at the door and thirty more men poured in each one armed to the teeth. Something had tipped them off and they’d brought in reinforcements. Worse Dick thought as he heard another pair of footsteps coming through the door, they had decided to call in the boss.  


A young man, hair practically dripping with gel, chewing passively on a cigar walked through the doors. Dick recognized him from blurry photographs, Tytus Samuel son of a gang lord fresh with power now that his father had died. He didn’t look like much, but he walked before the muscled and tattooed criminals with an ease and an authority that couldn’t be denied. Standing himself up on a crate he removed the cigar from his mouth and yelled out  


“ Oi, I’ve got news that our little shindigs about to be crashed. We've got minutes before El Diablo Rojo shows up so kick your asses in gear, get rid of the evidence and scatter. ” Dick didn’t recognize the name but whoever it was, made the thugs practically quake.  


“What do we do with the kids.” someone from the crowd asked.  


“We can’t make the shipment. So throw them in the river. No one wants them now” Tytus said sticking the cigar back between his lips and hopping of his pedestal. The BPD were only ten minutes away, but in this moment Dick saw a man train his gun on a little girl, and shit, he thought jumping down from the rafters, his night was really taking a turn for the worse.  


Facing Dick against five men was an easy victory, give them guns and maybe he would break a sweat. Turn that number into ten and he might need to pull out some tricks, but turn that number into thirty or forty and you had yourself a real fight, one Dick was unlikely to win.  
There was fifty men in that warehouse. People that looked to be the worst sludge scraped of Bludhavens streets, arms muscled and thick holding onto handguns, and semis like they knew how to use them.  


Dick was facing them all down.  


“Leaving so soon?” Dick said to them with a smile. And then the shooting started.  


It might've been counter-intuitive but for Dick, when he truly believed his life was in danger it gave him a sense of calm. Everything swirled into focus and nothing could touch him. If he were really going to die in the next couple minutes then how could anything matter, not the dishes in the sink, or the rent due tomorrow, or his fears that his family was falling apart, and the knowledge that the next world ending event was waiting just around the corner.  
Everything just faded away and all he really needed to do in the moment was survive. It was a type of high, you could find yourself getting addicted to.  


Dick picked out the biggest man in the crew, he threw an escrima stick at his head, following after it feet first, the man fell with a thud. He moved his head, just barely avoiding a bullet and rolled off the ground sweeping his foot out to trip another man over.  
In this close of quarters their numbers and guns, worked against them. They were scared to shoot, afraid they’d hit one of their own, but all Dick needed to do was swing out his arm and it would make contact. Kicking and swinging his fists and jumping in and out of the line of fire, God this is what living was.  


He brought another three men down, and the rest began looking at him with fear backing up a bit. Dick tried running back at them, he got two more down before, someone tripped him up with a sharp kick. Before he could get his balance someone else kicked him in the ribs. He grabbed at the mans leg pulling him onto the ground. Swung around to get a hit on the man coming up from behind him, than ducked to avoid another goons punch. At that moment another guy with a knife jumped out at him. Dick circled around Knifey trying to keep track of what was going on behind him, he waited till Knifey launched himself forward, turning to the side and elbowing him in the back. The knife skidded off into the crowd, and Dick gave the man's shoulder a stomp to keep him down. He was starting to tire a bit, and noticed too late that someone else was rushing at him, he barely dodged, and distracted a bullet grazed his thigh. It stung, so quickly Dick launched himself of a man's shoulders and jumped back into the rafters. He felt at his leg catching his breath while hidden in the darkness. 

The cut was bloody but not deep. He moved quietly in the shadows deciding to take a page from Bruce’s book. The goons began shooting wildly making noise as the bullets pinged against the metal beams. Scared of him now in a way they hadn’t been before. He began picking them off, coming down where they didn’t expect him, taking a few of them out, and then jumping back into the darkness of the rafters before they had time to react, the noise of the pinging bullets masking his drops.

“You Idiots!”, Tytus yelled and the shooting stopped. Dick watched from above as he grabbed a small boy from where he sat huddled on the ground. “If you want him to come out than use something he wants.”  
Tytus slowly brought his gun up to the temple of the small boy, whose face had gone white. Nightwing stilled in his spot. He waited.  
“Come on Diablo, I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you” Tytus called out in a high strung voice. “We don’t want anything to happen to our little boy here do we?”  
After a few more seconds Tytus face fell into a frown. “ I’m counting to ten, come out or the kid bites it and I get myself another.” Tytus pushed some of his hair out of his face “I can do this all night.  
10  
9  
8  
7  
6  
5  
4  
3  
2 ”  
Dick jumped down keeping his hands up in a non-threatening manner and walked toward Tytus.  


“Don’t do anything stupid here” he started saying until Tytus aimed the pistol at him and shot him straight in the stomach.  
The shock of the bullet had Dick on his knees, and in the next second the Goons were on him, kicking him and railing down heavy fists. The little boy still in Tytus’s arms began to really cry filling the Warehouse with his sobs.  
Dick reached a hand out to catch a kick aiming for his weak side, and twisted the leg bringing the man down with it. Except another one immediately took his place. Dick looked up to see smiles on their faces, they were really enjoying this. A sharp kick to the head and Dicks vision began going hazy, he heard a sharp yell and could hardly open his swollen eye to see where it came from.  
Tytus yelled out once more  


“Get away!”, walking over he grabbed at Dicks hair pulling him up to bare his neck. He looked at him assessing something, “ this isn’t our Diablo, just another bat in the rafters” he called out to the crowd of men. “let’s say we make an example of this one show everyone what happens when you mess with a Samuel.”  
He slammed Dick’s head into the wall, pulled him back up and pressed a knife to his throat. Dick’s vision went blurry, and his eyes dipped closed. He felt the cool metal pressing into his throat, tried moving his hands up to pull it away, but it was like moving through jello. The child’s screams became harsher filling Dick’s ears, but somewhere beneath that he heard the sound of a metal pane being moved aside.  


Suddenly there was the sound of bullets firing and Dick thought he was dead. Except no if he were dead his head couldn't be aching like this. He pushed open one eye to see a dark mass, that seemed to move around among the goons hitting them down.  
Batman?  
Dick failed to keep his eyes open to truly say. He heard grunts and groans, some bullets firing and then the sound of sirens pulling up outside the warehouse.  
Finally, Dick thought struggling to open his eyes to see.  


“Well, Fuck” he heard the black mass speak out. The mass moved forward and Dick could clearly make out a bat on his chest, before giving up and letting his eyes close once more.  
Dick felt arms wrap around him, hearing a grunt as Dick was lifted. He smelled like gunpowder and kevlar and Dick just breathed it in.  


Home he thought curling further into the scent and Batman’s chest, too tired and hurt to care if this made him look weak. Batman felt different than Dick remembered although he had avoided clinging to Bruce like a child since he really had been one.  
Now he couldn’t resist. Bruce growled out something along the lines of “Dickie… what have you done…. Aw can’t have another dead robin” Dick paid less attention to the words and more attention to the way he could feel the vibrations from his chest. Here he felt safe


	2. Chapter 2

Dick was restless throughout the night. He felt wind blasting his cheek, the never ending pain of his side and his head. 

He clearly saw before him a young child with blood on his chin and than opened his eyes and saw a black night. Red mixed with Black mixed with Bats until Dick couldn't tell up from down, and held on all the harder to the man beside him. 

At some point he was laid down onto a soft bed. Dick let out a weak moan when he lost the warm presence of Batman, but the hands soon came back traveling over him, softly, until they came to his lower ribs. He startled awake with a scream when he felt somebody removing the bullet from his side, but before he could sit up strong hands pushed him back down, and rough fingers began cording through his hair. 

It was strange but paired with a constant stream of hushes it relaxed him. He found it was a good distraction, better than whatever drugs he was injected with to just focus on the fingers passing through his hair, to follow that easy pattern until it lulled him to sleep. 

Somewhere lost in a dream, Dick saw Jason's face before him, not like it had been last time they'd seen each other, no anger or rage distorting his features, no helmet and no mask to hide behind, just Jason looking terribly vulnerable, tired and concerned with his eyes staring into Dick's, this dizzying green he didn't remember Jason having. Like this Jason looked so young and so hurt. 

Dream Jason cocked his head

"Go back to sleep" he whispered.

That's funny, Dick thought, to have a person in a dream tell you to sleep. Still he took Dream Jason's advice and closed his eyes. 

_I wonder if I'll get a goodnight kiss_. 

Dick woke up to the sound of the phone ringing. Sitting up in bed disoriented. His head ached and it took him several moments to realize where he was. 

Last night came down to him in bits and pieces, the warehouse, the fight, then someone swooping in and cleaning up his mess. His face went red, remembering how he had curled into Batman’s arms, how he’d managed to fuck up a simple mission with police en route. 

He moved his arms down his sides feeling at the wrapped bandages. He could almost remember that happening but it was cloudy between the haze of pain and drugs. 

Bruce must've done that after he’d brought him back to his apartment. Ignoring the pain everywhere he picked up the phone to hear Alfred’s clipped tone.

“Master Richard, I hope your not still in bed at this hour.”  
He was taking some time to shake off the aftereffects of the drugs, so it took him several moments to respond.

“What , Alfred no I… I was just making lunch had to turn of the stove before I could get to the phone.”

“Mmhmm, Sir the idea of you cooking doesn’t make me less worried” Dick could hear what sounded like a crash in the background, than Damian yelling followed by Tim cursing something, and than a distinctly Stephanie-esque laughter.  


“ regardless Master Bruce has requested your presence at the manor and, Oh dear please do that away from the finery.” 

Dick Grayson mulled that over in his head, It was so very Bruce of him to deliver a humiliatingly necessary rescue, and then invite him back to the manor. He hadn’t returned to the manor in months, trying to make a life away from home was pretty hard if he kept running back to it. 

Still with what Bruce had done for him, he felt he at least owed it to him to show he was still moving and breathing. Let him take a look at his handiwork on the bandages, and chew Dick out for botching the job. 

He sucked air in through his teeth, a hundred bullets was better than a disappointed look and talk down from Bruce. 

“Ok Alf, I’ll be there in an hour.” He finally responded 

“Hmm, Oh that’s lovely” Alfred replied sounding mildly shocked, followed by a startled “ Master Tim do not use a cat as a projectile… Damian he is releasing the cat!... Well we shall see you then Goodbye Richard.”  


Dick stood up and almost immediately fell back over. He slowly made his way over to the kitchen grabbing for some pain killers. Seeing his family injured and drugged, this was going to be fun.

There was life in the manor. Alfred the cat was chasing a mouse around the gardens, while Alfred the butler was cleaning the rooms. Not sweeping up old, long-settled dust, but new stains and splotches. 

Tim and Stephanie were hanging out in the pool, while Jason was sitting beside Damian on the grass as he performed a knife trick. The drugs had made him drowsy cause it took him several moments to process that. 

Jason. Here. 

The same Jason that had tried to kill half the people in this house, that ran a drug ring in the city, that broke the unbreakable rule and declared a vendetta on all things bat. Sitting poolside in cargo pants. 

Stephanie motioned for him to come over, made like she was going to whisper something in his ear before grabbing at his shoulders and throwing him into the water. He came up sputtering, yelling something at Stephanie while she looked back at him with a wicked grin. He crawled back up out of the pool, a fowl expression on his face. 

Dick could hardly notice that over the way his white shirt clung to him, he could see the sharp outline of muscles, and a suggestion of scarred skin underneath the wet fabric. More importantly he could see the clear outline of a gun holstered to his leg.  


“What are you staring at Dick” Jason yelled over at him, noticing where he stood inside the gateway.  


Dick was startled.  


He replied with a scowl.

Dick opened his mouth to say something when 

“ Ah master Richard” Alfred cut in, “ you’ve arrived, lovely and would you mind escorting master Jason to your room it appears that he is in need of some fresh clothing.” Alfred made a scene of shooing Jason over to Dick’s side and then the two of them over to the stairs. Jason didn’t wait moving up the stairs like he owned the place. Leaving Dick to trail after him.

“What the hell-- ” Dick began to growl out.

“How’s your side?” Jason said, interrupting him.

Dick was taken back by that.  
“What… what are you… I... fine it’s fine” 

“Good” Jason said, entering Dick’s old room and taking off his shirt. He turned around scanning the room for spare clothes.

Dick hadn’t seen Jason up close like this in ages, he hadn’t been muscled like that back then, he hadn’t made the blood rush up to Dick’s head back then. Cause now there was abs and an arrangement of bruises and scars, old and new covering them. 

Dick wondered what the story was behind them,. With his eyes he followed a drop of water that ran down from Jason's neck to the jut of his hip crossing over cuts and scrapes as it went. 

Dick shook his head, he didn't know what he was doing. Jason wasn't anything but an enemy, not the kid he'd once been, and definitely not the person that child should have become. 

A lot had changed from when they were children. New scars were present, and they ran deep. Jason began taking off his pants, and Dick averted his eyes.

“Jason what are you doing--” Dick began saying

“I’m not staying in these wet clothes forever, where do you keep your pants”

Dick couldn’t find his voice, he motioned vaguely over to the closet he’d kept his clothes in back when he lived in the manor. He could breathe easier once Jason was dressed, in one of his over sized jackets and a tight pair of pants.

“ Jason, what are you doing here?” he managed to ask, keeping the anger out of his tone. 

“Me and the Bat made up, I’m here to help!” Jason replied adding a cheeky grin 

“We don’t want your type of help” Dick’s tone became more icy “We don’t kill in case you needed a refresher”  
Jason just let out a humorless laugh 

“yeah, the only person you’ve come close to killing is yourself” Jason leaned forward getting in Dick’s face “ no need to lose your head Dickie I can play nice.”  


“Sorry if I find that hard to believe" Dick said refusing to back away.  
"What? you liked death so much you decided everyone should get to try it." Dick let out suddenly. He was surprised to hear himself say it.

Jason reached a hand out, Dick tensed up for a moment expecting a hit, but instead the hand was gentle it touched at his side moving down to his belt before gingerly lifting up his shirt. Jason peeked at Dick’s ribs surveying the bandages.  
“Your one to talk, tell me how did he manage this shot Golden boy, Tytus beat you at your own game? ”  


Dick was taken back by that. His face flushed red, which just made Jason’s smirk grow wider. So Bruce told Jason, he’d really stoop that low. Dick walked away feeling Jason's eyes on him. 

 

Bruce was hanging out in his study, and Dick walked in slamming the door behind him.  


“What the Hell, Bruce” Dick started “you brought Jason to the manor”  
Bruce folded up his paper and cleared his throat.  


“That’s why I invited you here, I put Jason on a project and I wanted-- ”  


“He’s a Killer!” Dick spat out.  


“He’s family ” Bruce asserted  


“Oh, he is definitely not that” Dick said “you really want him around here, what about Tim, he's already tried killing him once?” Bruce’s face remained impassive 

“and what about Damian, you think he needs another murdering psychopath in his life” still no reaction, 

“another killer to call _Family_ ”.  
Bruce slowly uncrossed his legs and stood from his chair.  


“Listen, I’m giving Jason a chance I want you and Jason to work together-”  


“So you want me to be his babysitter” Dick argued “make sure he doesn’t kill anybody, while your conducting your little experiment on reforming criminals.”

“NO!” Bruce said suddenly impassioned, “Dick that is not what this is about” all at once disappointed and condescending. It left Dick faltering. “You could help each other.” Bruce said with finality.

“ So if this isn’t about me watching him, than it’s about him watching me” Dick said softly, he couldn’t stop the hurt from entering his eyes. Wasn't that just the cheery on top, everything he had tried to do to move out, to become his own person, and Bruce was still trying to wrangle him back. Trying to keep him monitored.  


“ ok Bruce ok” Dick walked out the door before Bruce could respond.

He crawled back into his old room, threw himself out of the familiar window, and began running rooftop to rooftop. He planned to head back to Bludhaven, but he couldn’t shake off that feeling the way Bruce had gotten, and Jason’s smirk. 

Why did he trust him? Why did any of them trust him? What happens, when Jason loses it again?

In one jump the ache at his side exploded, into a harsh pain. He curled up on the roof feeling at the bandages which where now dyed red. 

He gritted his teeth, standing back up , Bludhaven would have to sit tight for a few more nights there was work to be done here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Dick's being a gay disaster, but give it time things are building. Tell me what you think  
> **  
> update chapter has been edited and Dick is no longer as much of a Gay disaster, Yeah I know I'll miss it too.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a while to write. I have no excuses. Sex scenes are hard. That being said I’m pretty proud of this chapter. It took a different direction from my original plan, but that just keeps things interesting. I’m probably going to re-edit it a gajillion times before I’m happy with it regardless but now I can finally move on to the real meat of the story. I promise this fic is going somewhere and moving forward the tags are gonna come into play. This chapter has the first hints of that mature rating so check the bottom for notes. I’d love to hear what you guys think of it though, lot of love to everyone who commented and kudo’d.

Dick hung around the manor, re-wrapped his middle and watched the doors. He was on the roof of what had once been the servants wing, back before Thomas and Martha Wayne's death when everyone but Alfred had been let go.  
It was a bit more hidden than the other parts of the manor; he knew that Tim still sometimes came up here to take photos, and Damian liked to use it as a place to practice out new moves. There was nowhere on the manor grounds one could really be outside Bruce’s view but this place was probably as close as you could get.  


The drugs had officially worn off by now, and Dick felt it. His sprint across the rooftops hadn’t helped any, and he was painfully aware of where the bullet had carved into his stomach. He focused on his breathing to cloud out the pain. It didn’t work very well. His thoughts drifted to Jason.  


He had integrated himself with the family so quickly, and it left Dick feeling replaced, _not for the first time _a foul voice reminded him. If nothing else it made him angry and that was a much more effective method of driving off pain.__  


Finally when the sun had officially set leaving nothing but a pink sky behind, Dick saw Jason walk out of the manor doors and get on his bike. Dick trailed after him while he sped through the streets, tracing him across the wealthy housing complexes surrounding Wayne manor, all the way to the other side of the city where the homes fell under the skyscrapers shadows.  


Gotham’s poor neighborhoods weren’t like Bludhavens, there the distracting casino lights gave everything a shiny coat. Here the cities poor was simply ugly. Dick watched Jason travel into the heart of this section. He stopped by the stoop of a rundown apartment, in front of a man shooting up, on the stairs. Jason, handed him what looked like a box before walking in the door.  


Dick waited a few moments, looking at the old man on the stoop. The box stayed in his hands. Was this a trade? was he supplying one of his dealers? Dick tried to be inconspicuous, walking past the man and letting a dollar drop into the box, where it fell on some of Alfred's leftover pasta.  
Dick snuck inside, the lobby was empty as were the halls, at night in this part of the city that was to be expected. The building was fairly rundown and the floorboards creaked, but there were some lights still on and the faint murmurings of a heater working.  


All in all it was high grade for the Narrows.  


He didn’t bother with the stairs grabbing at the banister and pulling himself up. He quietly swung up level by level freezing at the sound of a crash coming from the top floor room. Dick quickly moved out of site before the door above him slammed open and Jason came storming out. He saw Jason's boots marching down the stairs.  
Dick was holding his breath, he knew that with one turn of Jason’s head he would be discovered, but whatever had upset Jason distracted him enough that he seemed to hardly register his surroundings marching out the building doors in a huff. Dick had an easy enough time sneaking in through the door he left open.

The room reminded Dick of a crime scene. Of violence isolated and categorized. It was tiny but tidy, the floors were clean or as clean as someone could make them, the ceiling was crisscrossed with water stains and cracks, old paint peeling. But all this pointed to age not mess.  
If Jason was living here he was keeping it tidy; much tidier than Dick’s place back in Bludhaven. To contrast the cleanliness the tables and chairs looked scratched swiped and stabbed at. A closer look at the walls showed that they were riddled with bullets, and stuffed in the trash can were disemboweled throw pillows.  
It took Dick back, oh he’d been angry before, and there was some broken furniture to show for it but this apartment looked scarred. Like someone had taken a knife to it every day that month. he almost felt bad for the sad abused place.  
Dick heard a muted voice from deeper in the room.

There was a lady on the television, with a batarang sticking out of her forehead and cracks emanating from the spot.  
“- despite substantial evidence connecting him to child trafficking and other Illegal activity within Bludhaven.” she drowned on “ Tytus Samuel will not face trial, and has been set for release.”  
At first the news left him shocked. It had been taken out of his hands and he’d assumed Bruce righted it all. Like a little kid who sleeps easy thinking his dad has scared of all the monsters.  
Than it twisted into anger.  


How, how could this possibly be happening? Even if Bruce didn’t take care of it, Dick’d left the police miles of paperwork. They were the ones who brought Samuel in. He’d put months of work into this. The case was airtight, Samuels was supposed to rot behind bars. The corruption of the Bludhaven police force never failed to amaze him.  
A file thrown on the ground caught his eye. A picture was peeking out from the top of it. It was Dick, two weeks back standing on Bludhaven bank in full Nightwing regalia. It was put atop an all too familiar file, all the exploits of Tytus Samuel and the Samuel family. Every dropped charge and escaped conviction, threatened cop and paid off judge amassed before him.  


In between them were more pictures of Dick, at various moments during his search for the kids.Then it continued, information Dick didn’t have. Describing personal accounts of his groups. Recruitment tactics and drug runs. A list of girls who worked for him beside their statements.  
One saying that he paid well, the next that he paid in nicotine and coke, another stating he broke her arm when she refused a john. This wasn’t anything Dick had seen in police reports. The file ended abruptly, with dark typing listing it as 3 of 5.  


This Dick thought was crossing a line. Jason was monitoring Dick’s case, keeping tabs on him for who knows how long. Wrapped up in a room of Jason’s destruction Dick all at once felt very unsafe. But the information, he’d have to check but it looked accurate. If that was true than this was exactly what he would need to get Samuel and make his conviction stick.  


The way his own pictures intermixed with Samuels sent of alarms in his head, but he could be careful searching the apartment for more info on Samuel without leaving a trace. If he could find something to explain Jason while he was at it, that would be even better. Cause Dick needed an explanation.  
Why did Jason have these photos, the information, the accounts.  
Why was his apartment like this, cut up and abused? Was he a danger to Dicks family? And did this apartment hold the secret to proving it? Something tangibile to bring before Bruce, proving Jason wasn’t as reformed as he liked to appear. Dick searched the apartment from top to bottom. Nothing else important was left out in the open, so he searched the apartment again deeper.  


Looking for hidden compartments under loose floorboards, and possible nooks in the walls. It was tedious work moving back and forth in the small apartment searching for anything, but it did give him an opportunity to inspect all the cuts and scrapes on the walls.  


They were not totally random, a closer look showed that they followed familiar patterns, ones that he’d had drilled into him by Bruce. The movement of hands replaced by the swipe of a knife. If the table had been a man, than this swipe would’ve kicked out his feet, this one would have pushed away a hit and this one…  
Dick was familiar with the move a detainment method that went for the side of the neck, but the cut was a bit too high, if it were a hand it wouldn’t knock the man out it would kill him. Dick gulped feeling at the deep cut in the table that stripped the lacquer and showed the red of the wood instead.  


Once he saw it he couldn’t stop, each mutilated floorboard was a fighting move Dick knew intimately. And because he knew them so well he could tell that they had all been turned deadly. It was disquieting and pushed Dick all the harder to find what Jason was hiding. He needed answers. 

After hours of fruitless searching, he found a hollow sounding region behind the bookshelf. Now he just had to find out how to open it. His thoughts were turned to cracking open the compartment and he almost didn’t notice the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs.

Dick only just managed to push himself out of site before the door opened. He dropped to the floor, looking at three sets of feet enter the room, from under the couch. One that walked heavy in worn boots flecked with dirt. Male, Dick thought, around 160 pounds and lean based on the stride. But it was a gait of someone who didn’t hold his body as a weapon, flat-footed with no rhythm to his movement. Then there was Jason's unmistakable walk. Stepping forward like someone who had it drilled in early and often to move silently regardless of the situation, and be able to run or kick at the flick of a switch. He was followed by smaller, dainteier, feet bare with heels left by the door. A she, short and slim, but there was a coiled energy in her step that suggested that she wouldn’t be as weak as she might appear.  
There was also the fact that all three of them were clearly drunk. They walked into the room with the door closing behind them. The man fell.. or no.. he leaned into Jason, and while Dick couldn’t see their bodies their feet strayed closer to each other staying like that for several long moments. Then they teetered forward, pushed by the small woman whose bear feet skipped around them, pulling jason forward while the man followed after them. They made it into the bedroom, and Dick heard the lock click into place. Dick ran over pressing his eye to the keyhole.  
**

Jason was kissing the woman her hair fisted in one hand as the other moved down her back undoing buttons as it went. She leaned forward into the kiss then pulled away sliding off Jasons lap. “ I want to watch “ she said in a sultry whisper. Dick couldn’t hear her, all he saw was Jason’s wink and smile, while the man moved up behind him to move his hands down Jason. The man was attractive, Dick had to note. Sharp features and a strong jaw to contrast, soft blue eyes currently devouring Jason in long sweeping looks. Jason reached back, pulling the man closer by his shirt. It bunched up revealing a muscled chest smooth and scar-less.  
Everything else fades away with Jason’s moan. Dick sees his mouth form an O, and his eyes brim with this sort of amusement different, yet familiar. Dicks caught up in it, he can’t tear his eyes away. He’s breathing hard against the door, staring at Jason as his head tips back the man's arm snaking around him, dip into the waistband of his jeans. There is a look that crosses Jasons face, and a stifled moan as the hand begins moving against him.  
The heat is practically rising from his skin as more clothes are thrown to the floor. The girl reappears grabbing Jason's lips with her own. The man grinds into him and Jason pushes back; turns away from the girl to fall into a kiss. The hand is gone from his pants. Jason begins kissing his way down the man ending on his knees before him. The mans hand is tangled in Jason’ hair, and the girl is pressed flush against his back.  


**  
Dick makes a sound, a garbled yelp, and pulls away. He has to lay his hands on the floor to steady himself, breathing slowly and deeply. He didn’t know...couldn’t know. It wasn’t right for him to see that, private. But Jason was with… with a man. Years he’d known Jason, since he’d been a child, and he’d never suspected, hadn’t known couldn’t have known. Couldn’t have known the way he would react to it, the sound of two strangers running him ragged.  
Had Jason heard him?  
He needs to go. He needs to go NOW. But instead he pushes his eyes back to the keyhole to get one last taste of the scene.

There was jason laughing into the boys neck and there was jason turning to bite into a girls lips and there was jason with skin pulled taut, between both their hands. moans leaving his mouth. The sweat. It was too much to take in so Dick focused on the sweat, the sweat pooling between the girls breasts, running through Jason’s hair, dripping of the boys chin, everything drenched in sweat. He turned his back to it. Dick could barely breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> righto, so there is a fairly mild (correct me if I'm wrong) sex scene in this chapter bracketed with **. I don't think it's all that explicit but I thought I'd play it safe and note it at the bottom. While the scene is pretty necessary to understanding the plot the final paragraph kinda sums it all up so if you'd rather avoid such things you can hop over it and not lose to much understanding. Not sure if too tone it down or turn in up in the next chapters so advice is nice.


End file.
